Chapter 26

Thomas stared up at the night sky, struggling with the jealousy that plagued him and left a bitter taste at the back of his throat. He'd never been a jealous man before. Didn't want to be now. He wanted to be happy for Drake. He'd found a woman who could save his life. End his suffering. That was something worth celebrating.

But instead of feeling like celebrating, Thomas felt like lashing out at Drake. He wanted to beat his friend into the ground and take Helen for himself. It didn't even matter that she couldn't help him. Part of him wanted to make her try—wanted to force her to be something she wasn't. His salvation.

Thomas's chest ached with the weight of his jealousy and he rubbed a wide hand against it in an effort to ease the pain. It did no good, of course. Nothing could help him now. Even if there were other women out there like Helen, Thomas didn't have enough time left to find one. His time was up as of five minutes ago when he felt the last leaf fall from his lifemark and his soul began to die. He could feel it shriveling, leaving a bleak, empty numbness behind. All he had left to look forward to now was losing himself in the gray swamp of soulless amorality.

He heard the slight rustle of grass behind him and turned to see Carmen striding toward him with purposeful steps. She'd taken off her baseball hat and her pale hair shone bright under the moonlight.

Enough of himself remained for him to worry about her being easily seen, even in the dark. His hand strayed to his sword, making sure it was ready if any of the Synestryn found them out here alone. He would make sure she was protected.

That thought eased him a bit. At least he wasn't completely self-centered. Yet.

"What are you doing out here?" he asked her. "It isn't safe."

"I was worried about you," she told him.

God, she was young, barely even a woman, but with all the lovely trappings. She had that glow of youth about her—a sort of freshness that helped him remember why it was he'd fought his entire life to keep others safe. Her whole life was ahead of her, full of choices and promise.

He wished he could say the same for himself.

"I'm fine. I just wanted to be alone," he told her.

She sat down beside him, sharing space on the fallen tree he'd found under the old oaks behind the house. "I don't think it's good for you to be alone right now."

Thomas slanted her a questioning look. "Oh yeah? And what do you know about it? You're just a kid."

"I told you, I'm eighteen. Not just a kid. Besides, you're old enough that even Miss Mabel is just a kid to you. Get over yourself already."

Get over himself? "Is that any way for you to be speaking to a Theronai? You're supposed to show respect. Obedience."

She shrugged and it brought his attention to the slim line of her arms. She was slim everywhere, but in the kind of proportion that left Thomas staring a bit too long.

"Give me an order that isn't stupid and I'll follow it."

"Here's one. Go back inside."

She snorted. "Try again, He-Man."

He-Man? Wasn't that a cartoon?

Thomas was starting to feel more than a little offended by her casual attitude when she hopped up and stood behind him.

"What are you doing?" he asked, frowning at her.

"You're all tense. I'm going to rub your back."

Danger. He sensed danger, but he wasn't sure why. She was just a little girl. A blooded human, but still human. Her fingers settled on his shoulders and pushed deep into tired muscles. It felt good. He couldn't remember the last time something had felt good. He'd been fighting for too many days without a break. Ever since Kevin died. He couldn't rest while his friend's sword was lost, and until now, he hadn't realized what a toll it had taken on his body. He ached from head to toe, inside and out. He was used to pain—constant, intense pain—but what Carmen was doing to him felt nice.

He let out a deep groan of contentment.

"Glad you like it," she said as she leaned closer. He could feel the swell of her breasts against his back and that feeling of danger increased.

She stroked her hands over the nape of his neck in a slow, gentle caress and he realized what that alarm was all about. She wanted his attention. Not the way a student wanted approval from a teacher, which he could have handled, and would gladly have provided, but the way a woman wanted a man's attention.

Thomas shoved himself up to his feet and backed away from her in shock, nearly stumbling.

She smiled and it wasn't the smile of a girl. Oh no. That smile was full of womanly desire and very grown-up hunger. "What's the matter?" she asked. "Don't you want me?"

Thomas's mouth opened, then closed again. What was there to say to something like that? He'd never even considered the idea. Want her? She was just a kid. Noble, honorable men like him didn't want little girls.

She came forward, matching his horrified retreat step for step. Her hips swayed and her breasts jiggled and she forced him to think about what it would be like to just give in. Let her make him feel good for a little longer. Let her touch more than just his back. Let her take him into her sweet body and lose himself in feelings of the flesh.

So what if he had sex with her? She clearly wanted it and was technically an adult by modern-day standards. He deserved a little fun before he died. Better to take a woman now than when there was nothing left of his former self to hold his baser instincts at bay. He could still be gentle now.

Couldn't he?

The thought made his stomach twist with disgust. What if he couldn't? What if he gave in to his lust and it took over? He had no idea what would happen to him now that his leaves were all gone. He was strong enough that he could easily hurt her.

"No," he told her, using every bit of conviction he could muster.

Carmen's pursuit stalled and she looked up at him with the hurt of rejection shining in her eyes. "You don't want me."

"It's not that."

"It must be. I've listened to the human women talk. You can't spread disease and you can't get me pregnant, so the only thing stopping you must be the fact that you don't want me. Unless you've already got some human woman on the side and you're worried about cheating."

"I don't. You're too young."

"I'm old enough to know when I want to have sex. And I do. With you." She settled a slender hand on his chest and let it slide down slowly.

Thomas's stomach tightened and he bit back a groan of need. "It's not that simple."

"It is if you want it to be."

He felt his control slipping. She was offering him a chance to escape his life, if only for a little while, and he wanted to take it. After centuries of service he deserved a little happiness, even if it was only fleeting.

Thomas cupped her shoulders in his hands, unsure whether to push her away or pull her closer. She looked small standing next to him. Felt small under his fingers. He'd always liked that about women—how they could feel so delicate and yet be so strong at the same time. It was a wonder that never ceased to amaze him.

"I know you hurt," she said in a low, soft voice. "Let me make you feel good."

He found the strength to ask, "Why?"

"Because I can. Because I want to."

His resolve was crumbling by the second. She was saying all the right things to put his nagging conscience at ease. He wasn't forcing her. Hell, he wasn't even trying to seduce her. She was doing this all of her own free will.

Carmen looped her hands around his neck and nestled her body against his. He could feel her heartbeat against his ribs, see the flush of excitement creeping up her cheeks. "I know exactly how to make you feel good."

Something about that bothered him. He closed his eyes, blocking out the alluring sight of her so he could concentrate on what was wrong. "How do you know? You're too young."

She laughed. "You don't know anything about today's youth, do you? Did you think I was a virgin or something?"

Actually, the thought had crossed his mind, but he kept it to himself.

"Oh, man, that's priceless. I started sleeping with boys when I was thirteen."

"Thirteen?" He sounded disgusted, but he couldn't help it. She'd been just a baby then. "What the hell were you doing having sex at thirteen?"

Carmen's body stiffened and she dropped her hands and took a step back. "You sound like my uncle. Jeez."

Not her father, her uncle. "Where the hell was your father while his baby girl was out having sex?"

"You're kidding, right? I offer to have sex with you and you want to talk about my father? Fuck you." She rolled her eyes and started to walk away.

Thomas stopped her. He wrapped one hand around her arm and she had no choice but to come to a halt. "Tell me," he ordered, using his official Theronai voice—the one that usually had Gerai hopping to do his bidding.

He saw her consider her options—try to get away or answer him. "Fine. You want to know? I'll tell you. My dear old dad started raping me when I was eight. When I was ten, Mom found out and tried to stop him. He killed her for her effort and went to prison. Poetic justice came a-callin' and he ended up dying after being gang-raped himself. Isn't that a pretty story? I put it on the Christmas card every year."

Thomas was stunned speechless. What was there to say to something like that? Her life—her short life—had been destroyed by the man who was supposed to protect her, and here he was upset by the fact that after living for nearly four hundred years, he was dying. God, what a selfish ass he was.

"Come here," he whispered, and pulled Carmen into his arms. He held her tight, refusing to let her go when she struggled against him. Slowly, she stopped fighting and let him hold her. He could only imagine how alone she felt in the world. She'd been abused, terrorized, orphaned. Apparently her uncle had taken her in, but he could never replace her father. And nothing would make up for the betrayal she'd suffered at his hands.

Thomas wished that her father hadn't died, because he would have loved killing the man himself. Slowly.